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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310265">Spoken and Unsaid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothia/pseuds/Mothia'>Mothia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Cuddles, F/F, Fade to Black, Flirting, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, Mild Blood, Neck Kissing, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Suggestive Themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:33:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,077</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310265</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothia/pseuds/Mothia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In moments of conversation and of silence, Fareeha Amari and Dr. Angela Ziegler get to know each other and fall in love a little bit faster than perhaps either of them had expected.</p><p> </p><p>Marked mature for a few chapters near the end. These will be indicated in the author's notes at the top of the relevant chapters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Judgement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started life as a collection of scenes that didn’t fit into a different, longer work in progress, but that I still liked enough to save. I’ve cleaned them up and fleshed them out, but please note that the structure of this fic is still fairly loose. They pretty much all run short, but the lengths of the chapters are quite variable!</p><p>As always, if you spot any typos, grammatical errors, etc.... please let me know! Or else I reread a few months later and just end up exasperatedly holding my head in my hands the entire time wondering how I missed all of that...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angela didn’t know what to think about Fareeha Amari. The woman’s expression was completely unreadable through that reflective, hooked visor of hers. Even if it was, she had her back turned now, standing several paces away and speaking quietly with Brigitte. Angela tried not to frown.</p><p>She’d been handed a slim file containing a basic profile and an outline of the mechanics of the Raptora Mark VI during the pre-mission briefing. They were to work together, she’d been told, to provide aerial support. It would free Lena up to lend her unique skills to the operation on the ground. Angela had no objections—it made sense.</p><p>Still, as her eyes swept over the armor, with its hard, sleek edges, the powerful shoulders, and the proud curve of the helmet, Angela didn’t know what to think. Her eyes settled on the barrel of the rocket launcher, and she pressed her lips together. That had been covered in the dossier, but Angela hadn’t really needed it. She knew well enough what that weapon could do.</p><p>She was still looking when the conversation ended, Brigitte nodding and turning away. She raised a hand to flag down Reinhardt, presumably to quickly catch up before the operation actually began. Fareeha herself turned as well, helmet angling towards Angela, and began to make her way over, probably to do the same.</p><p>“So, it seems we are to fly together.” Fareeha had a voice much like her armor. Strong, and even. It was not unfriendly, but still strictly professional.</p><p>“So it does,” Angela replied. She slowly raised her eyes from the rocket launcher to Fareeha’s face. She was tall. Angela didn’t quite have to tilt her head back; Fareeha stayed a polite distance away, but it was the first time that they had ever stood so close together, and it was still striking. “Did you need something?”</p><p>“I felt that it would be appropriate to convene before the mission, given how closely we will be working with each other.” Her voice grew cooler, to match Angela’s tone.</p><p>“It should be a simple mission for us,” Angela replied, shortly. “I watch your back, and you get me where I need to go.” She gave the rocket launcher another pointed look. “Anything else risks far too much collateral damage.”</p><p>“With all due respect,” Fareeha shot back, an edge creeping into her voice, “our job is to make sure everyone else gets in and out safely. I’ll do what I must to accomplish that.”</p><p>Angela blinked, and raised her eyebrows. “I suppose I shall have to trust your judgement, then,” she replied, crisply, and in a tone that implied that it was the end of the conversation.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Unfortunately</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If she had to choose one word to describe Dr. Angela Ziegler, Fareeha would say “guarded.” There was a touch of awkwardness around all of them, of course. Most were heavy with a strange sort of nostalgia, weathered by years of solitude, and tinged with a sort of awed wonder at the mere idea that all of their old friends were together again. Others had fared better in the intervening time, but the gulf of what had happened since the last time that they had all gathered still yawned between them in every interaction that they had.</p><p>They all clustered together, chattering in the quiet minutes before every mission, trying to catch up on the ways in which they had all changed in the long years since they’d seen each other, attempting to build tentatively back up to the same camaraderie that they’d had before. Even the newer agents congregated, less catching up with old friends, and more making new ones.</p><p>All of them, except for Dr. Ziegler, who always preferred to stand away from the group, apparently lost in her own thoughts. She was dependable on the field, confident and pleasant, cheerful, even, though Fareeha had seen enough to know that this was more of an act than anything. “Mercy,” they called her. It was fitting enough, and seemed to bolster the spirits of many.</p><p>In reality, Dr. Ziegler struck Fareeha as a woman with perhaps limited energy for optimism, energy which she carefully rationed out, saving most of it for the injured, sick, and frightened. Off the field and away from the hospital or the public eye, she was largely solitary, rotating between her lab, office, and medbay. On the few occasions that Fareeha had spoken to her outside of work, after that first tense introduction, Dr. Ziegler’s words were measured, not terse but almost just, so stiffly polite that she toed the line of rudeness, and, during one late-night encounter, faintly apologetic, but never overtly so.</p><p>She was actually friendly and a reasonably good conversationalist, according to the others. She was prone to quarreling with authority, they said, and too many bitter disagreements had left her slow to trust. Fareeha recalled that the government in Egypt, and indeed the administration in Helix, had been suspicious of the doctor at best, and never really welcoming. She wondered if that was what Dr. Ziegler saw, when she looked at her.</p><p>Fareeha didn’t blame her if it was, but she sincerely hoped that it wasn’t. Dr. Angela Ziegler, after all, was unfortunately, wonderfully, beautiful.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Stubborn Fear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Don’t you dare,” Angela hissed, glaring, “talk to me about ‘the greater good’.”</p><p>“Angela,” Winston began, but Angela cut him off, pointing accusingly.</p><p>“The more you talk about ‘the greater good’, the more you lose track of it. We’re not here to repeat past mistakes, Winston.” Angela could hear her voice rising, but she didn’t care, not at the moment. “I buried too many friends once. I didn’t come back to bury the rest—”</p><p>“Dr. Ziegler!” Winston stood abruptly, lips pulling back to reveal a brief glimpse of long, gleaming fangs, the shout reverberating around the room. Angela pulled her hand back, eyes widening. After a breath, he sat again, shoulders hunching apologetically. “My apologies,” he rumbled. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”</p><p>Angela pressed her lips together. She looked away. “I shouldn’t have either,” she admitted, voice still somewhat clipped. “Regardless—”</p><p>“Angela,” Winston said, adjusting his glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose, “I realize that you’re concerned, and I do appreciate your… guidance.” He raised his chin as Angela opened her mouth. “But I must disagree with you in this case. It’s something that needs to be done.”</p><p>“It’s dangerous. People are going to get hurt.”</p><p>“More will get hurt if we don’t do it.”</p><p>Angela scowled. “That line of thinking is a slippery slope, Winston. I really do worry…”</p><p>“I know.” Winston sighed again. “I don’t like it much either, you know that. I just don’t see any other way.” He searched Angela’s face. “I trust you to keep us on track.”</p><p>“I can’t do that if you don’t listen to me.” Angela tried to smooth the frustration out of her voice, but she couldn’t stop her words from rising again at the end.</p><p>“Do you have a better idea?”</p><p>Angela closed her mouth. She hesitated, and looked away, curling her hands into fists and clenching her jaw. She said nothing.</p><p>Winston waited for a minute, and shook his head. “Like I said, we don’t have much choice. I’m sorry to put the pressure on you, but I also trust that you will keep us all safe.”</p><p>Angela remained silent, and unhappy. “Safe, I clearly cannot guarantee,” she said, at last, resigned. She shook her head, and turned towards the door. “But alive… well, I will do what I have always done.”</p><p>Angela laid a hand on the door, took just a heartbeat to steady herself, and pushed it open, barging into the hall and narrowly avoiding colliding directly with someone on the opposite side. Angela glanced up on instinct, met the curious eyes of one Fareeha Amari, and immediately looked away again. She could hear her pulse in her ears. Why was she this worked up? “Excuse me.” Angela shouldered past, trying to control her breathing, to not to walk too fast, to calm down.</p><p>Behind her, she could hear the murmur of quiet voices in the hall. Angela stopped as soon as she was out of eyesight, to lean against the wall and compose herself. <em> “I buried too many friends,” </em>her own voice echoed in her head. Angela closed her eyes.</p><p>If she wasn’t careful, she was going to start seeing ghosts.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. From Up Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How are you feeling?”</p><p>Fareeha started as the words cut through the rushing wind. She twisted half around, looking back and down. Dr. Ziegler continued, her voice edged with static. “It’s been a long time. How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Fine.” Fareeha let out a sigh. She turned back to face forward. “A little stiff.”</p><p>“Mm.” Dr. Ziegler hummed sympathetically.</p><p>A few more minutes passed as they slipped back into the silence. “I’ll never get tired of this,” Fareeha said, softly, thinking out loud more than anything. Below, the morning fog had burned off, the quilt of grey-brown stone and grass abutting dark, glittering water, patched with blue-grey shadows, drifting lazily across the ground.</p><p>Fareeha didn’t actually expect a reply, and Dr. Ziegler was quiet for a long time. “It is nice,” she whispered, at long last, so quiet that it was almost lost to the wind, in a tone of voice that implied she wanted to say more but didn’t, or couldn’t. Fareeha thought she could guess.</p><p>“It looks so peaceful,” Fareeha said. She couldn’t see it, but something in her knew that Dr. Ziegler had nodded.</p><p> </p><p>They touched back down at base another hour and a half later with nothing to report, save for what looked to be a building storm over the ocean to the east—about two hours away, by Fareeha’s estimate, which was corroborated by the watchpoint’s weather radar.</p><p>Fareeha ran her fingers through her hair and stretched her neck, taking a deep breath, her helmet tucked under her arm. She was eager to get the suit off and take a hot shower. Flying for so long, especially in the cold air, always left her with some aches, despite the undersuit’s best efforts at insulation.</p><p>“Good work today.” Fareeha blinked. Dr. Ziegler neither stopped nor slowed; didn’t so much as look over. But she had sounded genuine.</p><p>Fareeha nodded. “You too.”</p><p>“I’ll see you in two days.” Dr. Ziegler swept out of the room. She didn’t use the usual changing room, hangar, or showers, Fareeha had noted. According to Brigitte, she kept the Valkyrie in her lab, with its own equipment to perform more specialized, regular maintenance. It really was possible that Fareeha would not see her until their next patrol. The thought left the strangest, bittersweet feeling in Fareeha’s heart.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Trust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angela swung her head around, peering down at the ground at the crackle of a distress call in her ear. The wind pulled strands of hair from her ponytail and whipped them across her face and over her shoulder as she tried to pinpoint the location that was being described to her.</p><p>Suddenly Fareeha was there, blotting out some of the harsh sun glare. “On our way,” she said, as assured and smooth as ever, and then she turned, giving Angela a quick “follow” gesture before angling herself across the maze of empty streets and darting off.</p><p>Angela didn’t stop to think too hard; she just set her wings to catch the wind and followed.</p><p>Fareeha was right, Angela realized, as they approached the intersection of two narrower streets. Even if she couldn’t read the signs, she could see the park about a kilometer to the west, a swatch of green cut out from the city’s dark grey, and her headset had picked up a cluster of vital signs in one of the alleys below.</p><p>Angela folded her wings and dove, fanning them out as she approached the rooftops to thread herself more carefully into the narrow space between the buildings, alighting softly halfway down the alley. She spared the mouth of the alley only a quick glance; a sweep from the air had determined that all hostiles had withdrawn from the area.</p><p>Lena was huddled at the end of the alley, body tense, chronal accelerator glowing and whirling in a jittery way that said she’d been straining it recently. Genji lay crumpled on the ground behind her.</p><p>Lena made eye contact with Angela, and visibly relaxed. Her eyes stayed alert and wary, but she stepped aside, and allowed herself to droop against the wall as Angela brushed past. “Be careful, Lena,” she murmured. “Don’t overdo it.”</p><p>“I know!” Lena grimaced. “I’ve got it under control.” She folded her arms across her stomach, and set her jaw.</p><p>Angela frowned at her, but quickly erased it as she approached Genji. He slouched with his back against the wall, half-sitting, half-laying on the ground, one leg pulled up to his chest. He had one hand pressed to his side; the other laid limpy on the ground. His lights were dark, but Angela could hear the faint whir of the exhaust fans. As Angela knelt, his lights flickered to life, and the fans grew louder. Angela breathed a small sigh of relief—cold was a bad sign.</p><p>Genji wordlessly lifted the hand from his side, revealing a deep gash through the sinewy blend of silicon, metal, and flesh, stained and still oozing dark blood, thick and near-black in the shade of the neighboring buildings. Angela thought she could see shrapnel in the mess, though what was a foreign object, and what was a piece of Genji himself, she couldn’t yet discern.</p><p>After a moment, Genji looked away, letting his head fall back against the wall, and said, “So, I think I’ve been through worse.”</p><p>Angela let out a snort of dry laughter. “You’re not wrong.” She stretched out a gloved hand. “Hold still.”</p><p>“That was the plan.” Genji’s lights dimmed again.</p><p>She needed to stop the bleeding and get the worst of the debris out before she could do anything else. The wiring in particular would have to be repaired with more refined tools and time, but she could at least stabilize him in the field. Lena had overexerted herself; she’d need to retreat as well.</p><p>Angela stopped for only a moment in her work, tilting her head back. She couldn’t see Fareeha in the band of blue sky above, but she knew that she was there, circling overhead, watching for any danger.</p><p>Her presence soothed some of the unease of battle, and gave Angela the mental space and clarity to really work. It was a great comfort to know that she didn’t have to look over her own shoulder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Peace of Mind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fareeha squinted against the wash of golden dawn light, shading her eyes as she crested the top of the steep slope, pebbles crunching under her shoes. She stopped in her tracks, surprise surging through her veins. “Dr. Ziegler?” she asked, astonished.</p><p>Dr. Ziegler stood at the top of the outcropping, one hand outstretched to balance herself against the small spire of stone at her side. She was presently looking back at Fareeha, the sunlight flashing in the lenses of her glasses and tracing her shape against the pale grey sky, the rest of her cast in cold blue shadow. Beyond her was the sea, dark and flecked with shining sparkles of red and orange.</p><p>“Fareeha.” Her voice, like always, was mild, cool. She turned back to the sea.</p><p>Fareeha stood where she was for a minute, weighing her options, then took the last step up onto the flat top of the outcropping. She decided to settle a little further back, eyes turning to watch the clouds drift lazily across the sky. </p><p>Fareeha had discovered the formation, which rose from the ground behind the watchpoint, shortly after she’d arrived. It had a better view than the cliffs, provided one was willing to climb the small, rough path had been cut into it, which wound around the formation’s base before rising in a steep flight of shallow steps up to the top, which flattened out into a small platform, with the last of the rock tapering to form something of a squat column or spire at the side. Fareeha had taken to climbing it when she had the time, to seek some solace in the company of the sky. Aside from Genji, who had a habit of perching himself on the tallest structures he could find at night, she’d thought that she was the only one.</p><p>Her eyes slid back towards Dr. Ziegler. She was the same as always, down to the black shirt and white coat, its sleeves rolled up to the elbow, its hem blowing softly in the breeze. Fareeha spoke quietly. “Excuse me,” she began. Dr. Ziegler turned her head slightly, just enough to let Fareeha know that she’d heard. “It’s not safe to be that close to the edge.”</p><p>Dr. Ziegler glanced down, presumably at the cliff face and the ocean far below. She didn’t move. Fareeha waited, then crept closer, to just within arm’s reach. She settled down again, leaning against the stone, eyeing her. It was silent, or as silent as it could be, with the rush and sigh of the tide, the whistle of the wind, and the distant cries of seagulls.</p><p>Above, the sky warmed, the slice of orange and gold along the horizon spreading, then fading to pale yellow, cooling to a soft, eggshell blue. There was something meditative in the vast curve of the sky up above, Fareeha thought. She took a deep breath, half-closing her eyes.</p><p>“You don’t have to keep watching me.”</p><p>Fareeha opened her eyes. “Hm?”</p><p>“I’m not going to fall.”</p><p>“It’s better to be safe.”</p><p>Dr. Ziegler grunted. She looked down again. “Would that I could take my wings everywhere.”</p><p>Fareeha let out a short, dry huff of laughter. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” She tilted her head back. “It’s good for peace of mind.”</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dr. Ziegler nod.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Night Flight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Dr. Ziegler!” Angela stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder. Fareeha, at the other end of the hall, raised a hand and hurried to catch up. “Are you busy tonight?”</p><p>Angela blinked at her. “Yes.”</p><p>Fareeha took the blunt dismissal in stride. “Come fly with me tonight, if you have the time.”</p><p>Angela frowned. “Tonight?”</p><p>“It’s not on the schedule. I just asked and got cleared for it.”</p><p>“I see.” Angela turned away. “I’ll think about it.”</p><p> </p><p>Fareeha stood on the broad stretch of pavement outside the entrance, helmet off and head tilted back to the sky. She turned as she heard the door open, and when she saw Angela she smiled, hair blowing in the gentle night breeze.</p><p>“You made it.”</p><p>“Just barely.”</p><p>“Glad to hear it.” She put on her helmet, adjusting it. “Ready?”</p><p>“Ready as I’ll ever be.”</p><p>Fareeha nodded just once—a short, crisp incline of the head, and turned, taking a few steps further out into the open before leaping into the air.</p><p>It was a clear night, nice and dark—a pleasant advantage of the watchpoint’s isolation. The moon hung dim in the sky, a silvery-white scratch of light. The sky was awash with stars, glittering and cold, the smudge of a galaxy slanting through the thick of it. Angela could see the glow of the Raptora’s jets, and the shine of her own wings, in the corners of her eyes, two swathes of light in the gentle dark. Behind her shone the rectangular windows of the watchpoint, lit with tungsten yellow, fluorescent white, and the blue of computer screens. On the horizon she could see the greyish glow of the nearest town, and, to the east, the flecks of light that marked the harbor. Aside from that, the land below was pitch black. Angela took a deep breath. The air was marvelously cold in her lungs.</p><p>“What are we out here for?”</p><p>Fareeha glanced back, a movement that Angela could only track by the flash of light off the curve of her helmet. “It’s a nice night.”</p><p>“It is.” Angela waited. “Is that all?”</p><p>“What would you say if it is?”</p><p>Angela thought about it, and laughed, bright and clear. “You didn’t strike me as the type.”</p><p>“To enjoy the nighttime? Or to fly frivolously?” Fareeha asked. “Either way, you were mistaken.” Fareeha turned her head to look forward, and up. “I love this too much.”</p><p>Angela laughed again. “So I see.”</p><p>Fareeha was quiet for a minute, then she looked down again. “It’s nice,” she murmured.</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“I’ve never heard you laugh before.”</p><p>There was something melancholy about it, the click and crackle of the comms in the great, vast silence of the night sky. Angela turned, cutting a long arc through the air, and spread her wings, translucent plumes of light flaring out to catch the wind and suspend her in space. She swept her eyes over the ground, then fixed them on Fareeha, who had also stopped to hover, turning fully around to look at her.</p><p>Angela looked up. Fareeha took the queue.</p><p>As they climbed into the sky, Angela closed her eyes. There was nothing better than this, she thought. No mission, no pressure. Just her, and the freedom of the sky. Just her, and… she opened her eyes slowly, focusing on the streak of blue flame before her, and corrected herself. Just the two of them, alone, but alone together.</p><p> </p><p>“As strange as it is,” Angela began, as they circled down to land on the pad back at the base, “I consider myself a pessimist these days.”</p><p>Fareeha cocked her head curiously as Angela continued. “I used to pride myself on being a realist. Sometime in the past decade, the two began to become interchangeable to me.” Angela landed quietly, with two taps of her feet on the concrete, and then one of her staff. She turned to Fareeha. “You surprise me.”</p><p>Fareeha was still in a way that suggested to Angela that she didn’t know what to say. “I suppose I haven’t had much reason to laugh recently,” Angela added. Then, she smiled. “Thank you for that.”</p><p>Fareeha’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “I’m glad to hear it.”</p><p>“In any case,” Angela said, flicking her staff up, “I am not an optimist. But you do make me want to try.” She turned away, moving towards the entrance back into the building.</p><p>“Dr. Ziegler!” Fareeha called from behind her. Angela stopped. “Have a good night!”</p><p>Angela turned her head, not quite far enough to see Fareeha, but far enough to project her voice a little bit more. “Please, call me Angela.” She began walking in the direction of the door again and said nothing more, though she did spread one wing, giving a flick of a wave, as if to say, “You too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Her</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Southeasterly wind.” Fareeha cocked her head, feeling the press of the air against her body, one eye on the readings in the corner of her visor. “About… eight meters per second.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela was quiet. Fareeha was used to it by now, but this particular pause was longer than usual. She half-twisted around, giving a concerned look over and down towards the familiar light trailing her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eight meters per second from the southeast, thank you,” Angela replied, quietly. She sounded… pensive. Distracted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha frowned. “Is something wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” The reply was fast, but soft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha nodded, though she was sure that Angela couldn’t see the gesture. The quiet settled again. Fareeha checked her map, and cocked her head, eyes scanning the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s funny,” Angela began, still in that curiously quiet, contemplative tone of hers. “That you’re like her in such an unexpected way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Fareeha suspected that if she’d been walking, she would have stuttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your mother,” Angela began, and a cold shock went down Fareeha’s spine at the word. “She always read the wind too. Naturally.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, it was Fareeha that fell silent. “I see,” she finally said. Her voice sounded lonely, even to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what?” Angela spoke absentmindedly, as if she were talking to herself</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha blinked her eyes a few times, trying to refocus on the horizon. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was so afraid of seeing her in you,” Angela murmured. “But you’re not her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Fareeha could feel the familiar, confusing tangle of emotions pressing at the back of her throat. What else could she say?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a while, Angela spoke again, almost a whisper. “I’m glad,” she said, a hushed confession enveloped in the wind and the insubstantial thread of the comms between them, “to have met you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha’s heart skipped. “Yeah,” she managed. “Me too.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Oh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She was close enough for Angela to see under her helmet, the sun settling thick and golden-orange through her visor, glimmering in her eyes. She had a private sort of playfulness about her sometimes, a warmth that had risen to the surface as they’d worked together. It felt like there was a bright inside joke in every look that she gave Angela—a quick wink, a small raise of an eyebrow, a sparkle of mischief that no one else could see. Angela tried not to think about how happy that made her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spoke now, voice low and quiet. “Ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela blinked out of her reverie, and looked up. “As I’ll ever be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha’s eyes flicked to the side, glancing at the rest of the team as they assembled and exchanged words. The pressure of the mission precipitated in the air as the time for takeoff drew increasingly near, combated only by the murmur of easy conversation. They gathered into loose, small groups, but even then the two still stood a little ways away from all the rest. “Do you want to go over the plans again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m alright,” Angela replied. She turned to survey the group, and the slice of sky that she could see overhead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, they say you can never review too much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do they?” Angela’s voice was cool, even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those who work together should make sure that they are on the same page, no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we know each other well enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm, now that I have to disagree with.” Angela’s eyes snapped back to Fareeha’s, eyebrows arching in surprise. Fareeha leaned closer. “I’d really like to get to know you more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela froze, mind racing to form a coherent reply. “I see,” she breathed, at last, and silently cursed herself for her clumsiness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would it be too bold of me to ask for a kiss?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Angela </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to work to unstick her tongue. “At least buy me dinner first,” she managed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha’s face broke into a grin. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then, she straightened up, adjusting her helmet as she turned away and into the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela stared after her, lightly raising a hand to touch her fingertips to her lips, strangely awe-struck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How had she fallen in love so fast?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Quiet Reprieve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Fareeha.” Angela’s voice was quiet, just barely more than a breath, made more delicate by the hollow emptiness of the stairwell. Fareeha looked down at her as she stepped closer, and wordlessly slipped one hand out of her pocket, reaching out invitingly. Angela all but crumpled into her chest, curling her shoulders in and leaning her head against Fareeha. Fareeha wrapped her arm around Angela’s back. She had always thought of Angela as a cold person, her fingers cool whenever they’d touched, but now, huddled against Fareeha’s chest, she was soft, and warm. Fareeha patted her on the back. “I’m tired,” Angela whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” It had been a rough mission. Fareeha closed her eyes. She leaned against the wall, tilting her head down to brush her lips against the top of Angela’s head, and lifted her other hand to slowly stroke Angela’s hair, which was still damp from the showers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After several minutes, Angela took a deep breath. “You smell nice,” she mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha chuckled. “Do I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Angela buried her nose in Fareeha’s shirt. “Fresh laundry,” she said, voice muffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got the jet fuel smell out?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmph.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha’s lips curved into a smile. “That’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stairwell lapsed into silence for a few minutes. “Can we stay here…” Angela turned her head, laying her cheek against Fareeha’s chest, and closed her eyes. “For a while?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Fareeha murmured. “Of course we can.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Superstition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Angela breathed in deeply. She closed her eyes. There it was, that clean smell of sky and fresh linen, tinged with the pleasantly earthy, warm smell of coffee and a familiar hint of jet fuel. She wrapped her arms around Fareeha’s neck, happily combing her fingers into her hair, and kissed her on the cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha let out a quiet laugh, almost. “Hello, doctor.” She lowered her chin to her chest. “You seem happy to see me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t ‘hello doctor’ me.” Angela huffed. “I’m glad I caught you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking that it’s too early in the morning for you to be so bright-eyed.” Fareeha grinned. She gripped Angela’s arms loosely, and leaned down for a proper kiss on the lips. “What’s the occasion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing much,” Angela muttered. “I just wanted to see you.” She hesitated. “Wish you luck, perhaps.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luck? I didn’t think you believed in that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe in it sometimes. Not superstition,” Angela clarified, quickly. “No… horseshoes or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Horseshoes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was the first thing that I thought of.” Angela flushed, uncharacteristically timid. “I was just saying, I believe in luck, especially when I’m not there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when you are?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe in my own skill.” Angela grinned up at Fareeha. “No room for luck in a surgeon’s work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha raised an eyebrow. “How about my skill?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Better to have both. All I’m saying,” Angela said, “is that I wish I could be there with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For a routine security check?” Fareeha snorted. “No you don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not complaining about the attention,” Fareeha added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Angela clicked her tongue. “Best not stroke that ego too much.” She patted Fareeha on the shoulder. “Come back safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both looked up at the click of the intercom. “Amari to the hangar.” Athena’s voice was smooth and even, and altogether much less exasperated than any of the others would have been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be late.” Angela pulled away, quickly smoothing down her coat. She looked at Fareeha’s face, and pulled a small cloth out of her pocket. “Here.” She held it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fareeha accepted it. “Is this your glasses cloth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Angela hurriedly adjusted said glasses on the bridge of her nose, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I ah, I got…” She touched her lips, and gestured vaguely at Fareeha. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.” Fareeha sounded, more than anything, terribly amused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t have time to really… refine it,” she mumbled. Fareeha nodded. “Like I said, I was hurrying to catch you before you left.” She deftly flicked her hand, glancing at her watch. “Speaking of which, you really will be late if you don’t hurry up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” Fareeha let out a small grunt of affirmation, the calmly composed mantle of business and duty settling over her shoulders. She quickly cleaned off the faint smudges of lipstick, turned the cloth back over to Angela, and gave her a small nod. “Thanks.” She straightened up, adjusted her jacket, and began to stride down the hall in the direction of the hangar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For the record,” Fareeha added, stopping at the end of the corridor just long enough to look back at Angela, “I think there’s always room for a little bit of good luck.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Weakness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angela was curled up against Fareeha’s chest, a comforting warmth and weight on her lap. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slow and drowsy. They’d gotten very good at finding each other in secluded little nooks around the watchpoint, in the quiet hours of the day. Angela in particular was an expert at pretending it was an accident. She just happened to be around all these places well away from her usual work areas, just about every day.</p><p>Fareeha snorted—a small laugh, mostly to herself. Angela stirred, lifting her head to give Fareeha a curious look. “It’s nothing.” Fareeha lightly ruffled Angela’s hair affectionately. “Just thinking.”</p><p>“Hm.” Angela looked away, re-settling herself. “Wake me up if I fall asleep.” She yawned. “I don’t have too much time…”</p><p>“Are you sure? You seem like you could use some rest.”</p><p>Angela shook her head. “I have work to do.” She tilted her head just enough to give Fareeha another look. “And so do you.”</p><p>“That’s different.”</p><p>“It really isn’t.”</p><p>They lapsed into silence again, Angela’s breathing slowing once more as she slumped more comfortably against Fareeha. Fareeha was careful to not move too much—despite Angela’s request, she was content to let her doze off, at least for a little bit.</p><p>“I wonder sometimes,” Angela whispered. Fareeha blinked. She’d thought that she was asleep. She trailed off for a long moment. “Why I’m so weak for you.”</p><p>Fareeha tilted her head. “I’d imagine it’s my startlingly good looks and glowing personality.”</p><p>“And your remarkable humility, evidently.” Angela poked her in the stomach.</p><p>“Mm, yes.”</p><p>Angela snorted, and then she sighed. “I don’t know.” She began to fiddle with her watch, swiveling it on her wrist. “This has never happened before.”</p><p>“Never?”</p><p>“Certainly not this fast. And not often.” Angela tilted her wrist, the light glancing off the watch face. She shook her head. “I’m sure you’re not terribly interested in my past relationships.”</p><p>“I don’t mind, if you want to talk about it.”</p><p>“No.” Angela shook her head again. “It’s not too important to me, to be honest. Just… interesting.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>Angela breathed deeply through her nose, pressing her face into the crook of Fareeha’s neck. “I have 15 minutes.”</p><p>“That’s enough for a very small nap, you know.”</p><p>Angela half-laughed. “15 minutes. Wake me up after 15 minutes.”</p><p>Fareeha checked her own watch, and wrapped her arm around Angela’s shoulders. “Have fun.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. For Luck</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky was a wash of grey-blue, slightly sun-splashed, with a scattering of fluffy white clouds, trailing wisps of water vapor. Angela pursed her lips. It looked like an oncoming storm to her. They’d have to make this quick.</p><p>“Angela.”</p><p>Angela tore her eyes away, looking over. “Fareeha.”</p><p>“You seem worried.”</p><p>“Look at the sky.”</p><p>Fareeha walked over to her side, turning her own eyes to the sky. “Hmmm.” She was quiet for a minute. “We knew it was coming.”</p><p>“Sooner than we’d hoped, wouldn’t you say?”</p><p>Fareeha shrugged, armor glinting. “It’ll hold.”</p><p>“And if it doesn’t?”</p><p>“We’ll figure it out. We always do.” Fareeha turned to her. “Fly low and make the best of it.”</p><p>Angela sighed. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.” Her eyes lowered as she sank back into thought.</p><p>Fareeha was quiet for a long time. She radiated warmth, her armor having soaked up much of the day’s heat, and was now a comfortably solid presence that Angela could feel without even looking.</p><p>“Angela,” she said again, suddenly. “If I could trouble you for a moment…”</p><p>Angela raised her eyes. “Wh…”</p><p>The rest of her sentence died on her tongue as Fareeha stepped closer, lifted her hand, and brushed it under Angela’s jaw, thumbing first her chin, and then her cheek, brushing a stray strand of hair out of the way. She lifted her other hand, cupping Angela’s face, and gently tilted her head back.</p><p>Angela’s heart stuttered as their eyes met. She was suddenly caught between widening her eyes and closing them, and then Fareeha leaned down and kissed her, tender and gentle and achingly sweet.</p><p>Angela’s breath was sharp and light when Fareeha pulled away. “Wait,” she breathed, as she stretched up onto her toes, leaning slightly forward, hands lifting to catch Fareeha’s because she’d realized that she was so terribly greedy for Fareeha’s company and attention, and suddenly nothing else mattered.</p><p>Fareeha smiled at her, one of those small, private smiles that she seemed to reserve just for Angela, and whispered, “For luck.”</p><p>Angela stared at her, breathing heavily but trying not to, and then she cut her eyes away, gaze slanting to the ground, abruptly shy, and strangely nervous.</p><p>“Ohhhhhh!” The gasp was as bright and loud as the speaker’s personality. “Ohhh shi—”</p><p>“Lena,” Angela snapped, dropping her hands, stepping back just enough to scowl over Fareeha’s shoulder, “don’t you dare.”</p><p>“No promises, doc.”</p><p>At the look on Angela’s face, Fareeha threw her head back and laughed. She gathered Angela’s hands in her own again, and dipped her head, the gold in her hair glinting as it slanted past her face. “Let’s continue this later,” she murmured, and patted Angela’s hands. “For now, we have a job to do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapters 14, 15, and 16 get into more risqué territory, if you'd like to skip them.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Care for a drink?” Fareeha lifted a bottle to show to Angela. The body was bell-shaped, with a narrow neck, the liquid inside richly amber-colored. Angela squinted. “Brandy,” Fareeha clarified, giving it a swirl.</p><p>Angela perked up. “A little bit would be nice.”</p><p>Fareeha nodded and turned away, setting the bottle down to rummage around for suitable glasses.</p><p>“How did you get your hands on that?”</p><p>Fareeha closed the cabinet with her hip, brandishing a glass in either hand. “It was a gift.” She set the glasses down on the table, and retrieved the bottle. “I don’t drink much, so I’ve been looking for a good occasion anyways.”</p><p>“Not much of a drinker? I thought you were in the military.” Angela’s tone was lightly teasing.</p><p>Fareeha grinned at that. “Believe it or not.” She fell silent as she poured out two portions. “How about you?”</p><p>Angela shrugged. “It’s an occasional weakness.” She accepted the glass and lifted it to her nose, taking a breath. “Caffeine has always been my drug of choice.”</p><p>Fareeha let out a snort of laughter, and raised her glass. “Cheers.” Angela returned the gesture, and they both took a sip.</p><p>“It’s good,” Angela murmured, after a moment.</p><p>“Is it?” Fareeha took another sip. “Good to know.”</p><p>It was dark, this late at night, the windows shuttered and the canteen lights turned off. They sat at the table closest to the kitchen, bathed in a rectangular wash of white light pouring through the open door. Save for the whir of air conditioning and the hum of electricity, the room was silent.</p><p>Angela stirred from the reverie first. She lifted a hand to her hair. “Mind if I..?”</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>Angela tugged the tie out of her hair, slipping it over her wrist in one motion. She combed her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “Ugh, left that one in for too long.” Fareeha watched her quietly.</p><p>Much like Fareeha, Angela seemed to prefer simpler clothing after flights, prioritizing comfort for their poor, stiff muscles over all else—she’d changed into a knit black shirt and a pair of worn jeans. Her usual glasses had been abandoned somewhere, but she still wore her silvery watch. She was as prone to fiddling with it as she spoke, twisting the band back and forth across her wrist, if she was comfortable enough with her company.</p><p>Fareeha leaned one elbow on the table, cradling her glass in her other palm. “Need any help with that?”</p><p>“No, I’ve got it.” Angela grimaced as she tugged at a particularly vicious tangle. “That wind is ruthless.”</p><p>“It feels good though.”</p><p>Angela raised her eyebrows and briefly inclined her head in concession. She eyed Fareeha. “How do you get yours so nice so fast?” she grumbled.</p><p>Fareeha flashed her a wide grin. “I’m just that good.” Angela wrinkled her nose at her.</p><p>They sat together, making occasional conversation but often simply in companionable silence, well after both glasses of brandy had been drained. Eventually they both got up to wash the glasses—Fareeha had offered to take both, but Angela had insisted against it. After that they both sat down again, a comfortable, thoughtful stillness in the air.</p><p>“So,” Fareeha said, resting her head on her palm, “want to head back to my room?”</p><p>Angela slowly raised an eyebrow. “To do what?”</p><p>“Guess.” Fareeha let out a soft laugh and shook her head, realizing how that sounded. “Whatever you want.”</p><p>“Whatever I want?” Angela gave her a small, lazy smile. “Really?”</p><p>“You’re going to make me regret saying that, aren’t you?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Angela yawned, and stretched. “I’m not that sadistic.”</p><p>“Oh, good.” Fareeha stretched as well, rolling her shoulders and sighing. “Was that a yes?”</p><p>Angela looked her up and down, and flashed her another small smile. “Yes, it was.” She stood, and pushed her chair in.</p><p>Fareeha let out a small sigh of relief. She stood as well, picked up the bottle of brandy, now capped off, and made for the door, Angela falling into step at her side after making a quick detour to shut off the kitchen lights.</p><p>The halls were harshly lit with a cold, fluorescent light that made Fareeha squint when she stepped out of the dark canteen. It was silent; most of the others had gone to sleep. Of the few that hadn’t, almost all would have retreated to their various workspaces. Genji was the only one which was voluntarily nocturnal—despite appearances, Jesse was not inclined to stay up overly late when left to his own devices—and he liked to climb onto the roofs in his spare time, rarely making his presence known to any of the others.</p><p>The lighting in the agents’ living quarters themselves was, happily, softer and warmer. Fareeha unlocked her door with the flick of a keycard, turned the handle, and pushed it open. She reached out along the wall to find and flip the light switch, before moving into the room proper to set down the bottle. Behind her, Angela stopped just inside the door and looked around with interest.</p><p>Fareeha kept her space neat and tidy, but she was by no means spartan. Aside from the standard-issue bed, whose blankets had been swapped out, and chair, desk, and footlocker, she’d added a small rug, an extra chair, a nightstand, two lamps, and several posters to the room. There was also a little plastic solar-powered mechanical flower on the windowsill, and a cup containing a small collection of pens on the desk.</p><p>“Nice room,” Angela commented idly, taking another step into the room to get a better look at the posters. They were mostly about space and the associated technologies, with a single smaller one depicting some sort of black eagle or hawk perched serenely on a gnarled old tree and silhouetted against a vibrant, cloudless blue sky.</p><p>“A fan of aerospace, I see.” Angela tapped a finger to her lips.</p><p>“If you couldn’t tell by my profession,” Fareeha replied wryly. “But these were also on sale,” she added.</p><p>“Ah.” Angela glanced at the bird.</p><p>“And that one was a gift from my old squad. Apparently it reminded them of me.” Fareeha pursed her lips. “I still haven’t decided if I should be flattered or not.”</p><p>“It’s a very stately image, I think.” Angela turned her eyes to Fareeha, eyes bright and cheerful. “It suits you.”</p><p>“Does it?” Fareeha walked over to her side and looked at the poster, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Well,” she said, with a small shrug, “it makes for decent decoration.”</p><p>“That it does,” Angela replied, voice rich with amusement. She turned her attention to Fareeha’s desk, set just below the room’s single window. The window would have afforded a nice view over the sea and the path approaching the watchpoint, but it was presently shuttered. “You’re much neater than I am,” Angela observed.</p><p>“Thank you,” Fareeha replied. “I think.”</p><p>The room fell quiet for a minute, and then Angela spoke again, softer, lower, and closer behind Fareeha. “You’re tall,” she muttered. Fareeha turned to look at her. Angela looked her up and down, and her hand darted out, bunching up the front of her shirt. “Makes you hard to kiss.”</p><p>“Hmm…” Fareeha allowed herself to be pulled down a little as Angela stretched up onto the balls of her feet to press their lips together. When they broke apart, Fareeha gave her a small, lazy grin. “You don’t seem to be having any trouble with it.”</p><p>Angela huffed, blushing. “Shut up.”</p><p>Fareeha chuckled. “No promises.” Angela let go of her shirt and reached up, fingers brushing against her throat before she wrapped her arms around Fareeha neck and kissed her again. Fareeha made a small sound in the back of her throat, and shrugged out of her jacket, depositing it blindly on the chair behind her. Her hands settled lightly on Angela’s waist, before she pulled back, touching her tongue to her lips.</p><p>Angela’s eyes flicked to the motion. She bit her lip. “It’s been a long month.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.</p><p>“Mm.” Fareeha shifted one hand to Angela’s hair, gently coaxing her into her tilting her head, and pressed her lips against her neck. Angela let out a soft gasp in her ear. It was a good sound. “Want to move to the bed?” she murmured.</p><p>“Ah…” Angela shifted to lightly brush her leg against Fareeha’s, just enough to be felt through the fabric along the inside of her thigh. “Yes,” she breathed.</p><p>Fareeha hummed, moved her hand back to Angela’s waist, and guided her backwards. When the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, Angela sat, fingertips trailing down Fareeha’s arms and grabbing her hands. Her eyes focused on Fareeha’s chest, then shifted down to the hem of her shirt. Her attention broke when Fareeha untangled their hands, and laid one on the top of Angela’s head, threading her fingers through her hair. She waited a beat.</p><p>And then she stepped away. “Make yourself comfortable,” Fareeha said, turning to give a disapproving look at the lights set into the ceiling. “It’s bright in here,” she grumbled. She turned the lamp on the nightstand on with a click, and then padded over to the door. She flicked the light switch and looked back. The room darkened, now lit only by a warm, dim glow from the single shaded lamp.</p><p>Angela had taken the time to move further back onto the bed. Her hair was a pale curtain falling around her shoulders, softly-lit in the faint light. She kept her eyes fixed on Fareeha, gleaming with the reflection of the lamplight, a silent question, perhaps a dare, in their depths.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>By the way, please let me know if you feel like the tags are incorrect in the context of this and the next two chapters. I struggled a little bit with trying to decide what to tag this as!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Please</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, this chapter is one of the ones that earns the mature rating!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fareeha had said nothing, but her answer had been clear enough. </p><p>Her lips grazed the shell of Angela’s ear, and Angela’s breath quickened in her chest. Fareeha tilted her head, shifting slightly, kissing the soft, sensitive skin under Angela’s jaw. Angela made a small noise in the back of her throat, something close to a gasp, and Fareeha smiled, her lips curving against her skin. She kissed her again, leveraging her weight to nudge her down into the bed, lips trailing down her throat to her collarbone.</p><p>The blankets were soft, comfortable, and smelled a great deal like Fareeha. Angela let out a small sigh and relaxed, allowing herself to settle fully back, the tension loosening from her shoulders. Fareeha had clever, gentle hands, fingers moving over Angela’s sides, slipping coyly under the hem of her shirt and brushing over her skin. Angela took a deep breath, reaching up to wrap her arms around Fareeha’s neck, and let out another soft, halfway-pleading noise, and Fareeha lifted her head, pressing their lips together once more.</p><p>Angela laid her hands on Fareeha’s chest. “Don’t tease,” she mumbled.</p><p>Fareeha snorted. “You haven’t seen teasing yet.” She slipped one hand fully under Angela’s shirt, caressing her side. “Besides,” she added, voice taking on that rich, playful tone that she was prone to using, “you seem to be enjoying yourself.”</p><p>Angela’s fingers closed impatiently over one of the buttons on Fareeha’s shirt. “Come on,” she muttered. “At least get this off.”</p><p>“How about you first?” Fareeha lifted her hands, sliding the hem of Angela’s shirt up. Angela let out a huff, and reached down, crossing her arms, and pulled it off with a twist and a small wriggle. As soon as she was done with that, she grabbed Fareeha’s shirt again. Fareeha had already unfastened some of the buttons, but she was content to be still and let Angela do what she wanted.</p><p>“You really are eager.” Fareeha sat back, shrugging out of her own shirt.</p><p>Angela felt a rush of heat in her face. “Don’t laugh.”</p><p>“I won’t.” Fareeha bent down again, hands gliding lightly over her skin before planting themselves on either side of Angela’s head. “I’m honestly flattered,” she said, voice low, warm, smooth. Angela shivered.</p><p>“It’s just been a while,” she muttered. She took a deep breath and wrapped her arms around Fareeha again, fingertips grazing her back. She had such a solid, warm strength about her.</p><p>“Hmm…” Fareeha looked her over. She had a thoughtful, quietly hungry look in those deep, keen, brown eyes of hers. She was beautiful, Angela thought vaguely. The light fell over her skin in a lovely, soft glow. Angela’s eyes settled on Fareeha’s arms, admiring the way the muscles pulled taut and relaxed in turn as she moved, hands shifting, eyes dipping lower. “I’d better make this worth the wait, then.”</p><p>“You don’t have t—ah, that’s…” Angela trailed off with a deep breath, fingers curling. </p><p>Fareeha looked up at her, and raised her eyebrows, the corner of her mouth quirking up into something of a smirk. “Shall I keep going?”</p><p>“Oh,” Angela breathed, “please.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Last chapter with that ~suggestive~ content!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I mean, it’s not bad, right?” Brigitte rolled her shoulders, and rubbed her neck with a grunt. “Overall, I mean.”</p><p>“We didn’t make much progress,” Fareeha replied, frowning.</p><p>“Neither did they.”</p><p>“Regardless.”</p><p>“It could have been a lot worse.” Fareeha hesitated, and gave her a short nod. Brigitte stretched her arms above her head with a grunt, thought process clearly pivoting. “You think there’s any food left?”</p><p>“Workout first, remember,” Fareeha said.</p><p>“Yeah! You need fuel for that!” Brigitte playfully punched Fareeha’s arm. “Eat a lot, lift a lot, am I right or am I right?”</p><p>“I’m not entirely sure that’s how it works.”</p><p>“Of course it’s how it works!” Brigitte perked up, and raised a hand. “Oh, good timing! Angela! Settle something for us, will you?”</p><p>Angela, who had just rounded the opposite corner, raised her eyebrows. “Hello, Brigitte.” She nodded at her, then at Fareeha. “Fareeha. What’s this now?”</p><p>“I was saying,” Brigitte began, gesturing animatedly, “we should grab something to eat before hitting the gym. It makes sense, right?”</p><p>“At least one to three hours prior, depending on the size of the meal, yes.” Angela blinked mildly at Brigitte. Brigitte returned an exasperated look.</p><p>“Angela…”</p><p>“It’s the truth.” Angela held a straight face for a few moments, then broke into a grin. “Or a suggestion, anyways.”</p><p>“Right, yeah!” Brigitte perked up immediately. “And I mean, if we don’t steal the last cookies, someone else definitely will, so…” She turned her head, giving Fareeha a hopeful look.</p><p>Fareeha, who had been busy studying Angela, threw her a glance. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up with you later.”</p><p>Brigitte blinked, cocking her head. “Well, alright then.” She shrugged. “Your loss on the cookies.”</p><p>“Don’t eat them all too fast.” Brigitte, already setting off, waved her hand dismissively at Fareeha’s words. Fareeha snorted.</p><p>Fareeha slipped her hands into her pockets as she watched Brigitte walk away. She turned her gaze back to Angela. “How have you been? Is the paper coming along okay?”</p><p>“Well enough.” Angela rubbed the back of her neck. “With any luck I can start editing soon.”</p><p>“I see.” Fareeha nodded along. “Are you busy right now?”</p><p>“Not particularly.” Angela gave her a wry smile. “I’m trying this ‘take regular breaks’ thing out.”</p><p>Fareeha grunted sympathetically. “Let me know if you ever want to take a flight.”</p><p>Angela sighed. “I wish I had more time for it.” She shook her head, and turned, taking a step towards another corridor branching off of the hall, before giving Fareeha an inquisitive look. “Care to join me?”</p><p>Fareeha fell into easy step at her side. She said nothing, but the silence was a comfortable thing that they both understood now. The new path was narrower, but still relatively wide, and, as ever, just slightly uncomfortably bright with its flat, white walls and fluorescent lights. The signs had been repainted, crisp arrows and clean, blocky text pointing to the watchpoint’s various major facilities. Angela’s shoes clacked sharply on the floor; Fareeha’s rubber soles produced more of a duller tap.</p><p>Angela kept her head turned, scanning the flat, grey doors set intermittently into the walls. Her steps quickened, her path cutting across Fareeha’s as she spotted her destination. Fareeha stopped to let her cross, and followed at a slower pace, mildly bemused. “Where are we going?”</p><p>Angela stopped at the door, looking back. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, you know.”</p><p>Fareeha’s brow furrowed slightly. “So..?”</p><p>“So I’d hope that I would notice if you were making eyes at me.” She reached out to grab Fareeha’s sleeve, her other hand turning the door’s handle.</p><p>Fareeha allowed herself to be dragged through the door, face warming. She admittedly hadn’t expected Angela to notice, but she was also admittedly enjoying this turn of events.</p><p>It was a bathroom, small, tiled in white and blue, and lit with the same bright, white light of the hall. Two sinks jutted from the wall to the right. The left side was dominated by three unassuming grey stalls.</p><p>“Here, Angela?” Fareeha grinned. “I wouldn’t have expected it of you.”</p><p>“I’d hate to keep Brigitte waiting for too long.” Angela pressed herself happily against Fareeha’s chest as the door swung shut behind them. “Besides, no one comes around here.”</p><p>“Don’t tempt fate.” Fareeha did have to admit to herself that she hadn’t even known that this particular bathroom existed, but that was beside the point.</p><p>“Would you rather run all the way back to my office..?”</p><p>Fareeha snorted. “Up,” she grunted, leaning down pick Angela up, hands sliding over the back of her thighs. Angela let out a soft chirp of delight, wrapping her arms around Fareeha’s neck and holding tight as she was lifted up off her feet.</p><p>Fareeha took a few steps forward, letting out a low hum of pleasure at the feeling of Angela’s lips against the skin under her jaw, and her fingers rubbing small circles against the back of her neck. She settled Angela on the rim of the nearest sink, leaning Angela’s back against the wall.</p><p>Fareeha supposed she shouldn’t waste much time. She slid one hand up to Angela’s hip, thumb hooking over the waistband. The other, she lifted to her lips, touching the tips of her middle and index finger to her tongue.</p><p>Fareeha’s eyes flicked back up as Angela made another one of those soft, pretty noises in the back of her throat. Fareeha caught her eye, and couldn’t help but give her a wink and a lopsided grin as she lightly wet her lips and lowered her head.</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Waiting Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Angela combed her fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face, and let out a sigh. She twiddled the pen between her fingers, the tip fluttering quickly through the air. She let out another small, sharp breath.</p><p>“You’re sure worked up today, doc.” McCree, leaning against the wall to her left, pulled his cigar from between his lips and blew out a plume of blueish smoke. He raised an eyebrow. “Something the matter?”</p><p>Angela turned to him, giving the cigar a pointed look.</p><p>“Aw, well, guilty as charged,” he said. He yawned, and stuck it between his teeth again.</p><p>For a while, the only sound was the tick of the clock. “They’re fine, you know.”</p><p>Angela turned her head, a slight frown on her lips. “What?”</p><p>“Not like anything would happen on the flight back. Lena’s a good pilot.” McCree scratched his beard. After a moment, he gave Angela a lazy look. “You get antsy whenever ‘Reeha’s gone. Ain’t hard to figure out.”</p><p>Angela stared at him, cheeks warming. “I thought one of the others would have just told you,” she managed.</p><p>McCree raised his eyebrows, and shrugged, as if to say, “That too.” He pulled the cigar away from his mouth again, and looked around. “You two seem good for each other.”</p><p>“I always worry about everyone, anyways,” Angela mumbled. “You know I do.”</p><p>“Mm, yeah, yeah.” McCree glanced at the clock on the wall. He lifted his chin. “Athena?”</p><p>The air filled with an anticipatory hum. “Yes?” Athena’s smooth voice filled the room.</p><p>“Any change in estimated arrival time?”</p><p>“According to current calculations, they will be arriving 0.87 seconds earlier than previously estimated.”</p><p>“Alright, thanks,” McCree drawled. He tapped the end of his cigar on the little finger of his metal hand, gathering the ash in his palm. “About 32 minutes,” he added, addressing Angela.</p><p>Angela gave him a quick nod. She continued to flick her pen, occasionally looking towards the clock. Eventually, she sat down in one of somewhat stiff, orange armchairs pushed up against the edge of the room. There was a potted plant at her side. A fan palm, she thought. She leaned her elbows on her knees.</p><p>At ten minutes til, she stood up again. McCree, who had remained leaning casually against the wall, aside from a short excursion to fetch an ashtray (much to Angela’s immense disapproval), looked over at her. He cocked his head, and lifted a finger to his ear. Angela stilled, also cocking her head.</p><p>She heard it first—the familiar roar of a military personnel carrier, and the curious, telltale shift in pitch as its jets swiveled to slow its descent. Angela made eye contact with McCree. He gathered the meaning from her look, and sighed. “Better ear, as always.”</p><p>“You should start wearing some proper ear protection for once.” Angela crossed to the window, pressing up against the glass in an attempt to get a look at the landing pad. She could catch only a glimpse of the corner of the carrier, but had a good view of the grass and tarps outside waving and fluttering in the gale kicked up by its landing. “Peacekeeper isn’t exactly quiet.”</p><p>“Naw, she ain’t.” McCree chuckled. “Works like a charm though.”</p><p>Angela just shook her head, and stepped away from the window. They both turned their eyes towards the door on the other side of the room.</p><p>It took several minutes for the carrier to properly land, the roar of its engines slowly fading. It took several more for the door to open. Genji poked his head in, the ear-like pieces of metal on either side of his head perking up as he spotted McCree. “McCree!” he called, slipping through the door. He held a sheaf of papers in his hand.</p><p>“Genji. How’ve you been?” McCree took the papers from him, and began to quickly leaf through them, occasionally letting out a thoughtful hum.</p><p>“Well enough.” He turned to Angela, and waved. “Angela! Good afternoon! You seem well!”</p><p>Angela inclined her head with a small smile. “And you, Genji. I’m glad to see it.”</p><p>“Yes! We have not given you much extra work this time, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Isn’t that a shame.” Angela raised an eyebrow. “I shall mourn it.”</p><p>Genji laughed. McCree, meanwhile, flipped over the papers, checked the backside, and nodded. “Looks like it went alright.” He folded the lot, the papers crackling as he smoothed down the creases. “Thanks.”</p><p>“I have some thoughts about it, but…” Genji tapped his chin. “I think we should check the archives.”</p><p>“Alright.” McCree nodded, and pushed off of the wall, turning towards the exit. He stopped before the door, looking to Angela and touched the brim of his hat. “Angela.” </p><p>Genji followed after him, giving Angela a friendly nod. The door shut after them, and it was quiet again.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Safe and Sound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How have things been with you and Angela?” Brigitte asked, voice bright and easy as she strode down the hall.</p><p>Fareeha glanced at her. “Good. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I was just thinking.” Brigitte shrugged, and laughed. “I love her, but she’s prone to getting kind of fussy.”</p><p>“Especially when she can’t come along on the combat missions,” Lena interjected, jogging up to Fareeha’s other side. “More importantly…” She sidled closer to Fareeha grinning deviously. “She’s a total bottom, isn’t she? I bet—”</p><p>“Lena!” Brigitte cut in sharply.</p><p>Lena huffed, blowing a tuft of tousled hair out of her face. “You can’t blame me for wondering! It’s been long enough, don’t you think?”</p><p>“You’re not wrong,” Fareeha said.</p><p>Lena perked up. “Wait, about which?”</p><p>“Both.”</p><p>Lena blinked. Then, she grinned. “Aw, nice!” She leaned forward, looking to Brigitte. “You thought so too, right?”</p><p>Brigitte flushed. “I don’t make a habit of speculating about… Angela’s a longtime family friend!”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, ok.” Lena laced her fingers, stretched her arms out, and yawned. After a minute, she spoke again, wistfully. “Can’t wait to sleep in an actual bed again.”</p><p>Brigitte frowned. “We get mattresses.”</p><p>“Not the same, is it?”</p><p>“Eh.” Brigitte shrugged. “I guess.”</p><p>“And now we get time to properly rest,” Fareeha commented.</p><p>“Yeah, right, that’s nice,” Brigitte, replied, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “I need to go do a tune up on all the suits, I think.” She eyed Fareeha. “If that’s alright?”</p><p>“Always.” Fareeha nodded. “That thing that I talked to you about—”</p><p>“About the plates on the side, yeah, I’ll look into it.” Brigitte cocked her head. “You’re not flying for the next few days?”</p><p>“I don’t think so, not unless Angela has anything to say about it.”</p><p>“Eh, okay.” Brigitte scratched her neck, her steps slowing just enough for Fareeha to pull ahead.</p><p>“I’ll talk to her and let you know. I can’t imagine there’s anything urgent right now.” Fareeha had her head turned to address Brigitte, but she could see the door in her peripheral vision. She reached for the handle, turning it and pushing it open. “I’ve been thinking about—”</p><p>“Fareeha!” It was a breath, almost a whisper, and Fareeha didn’t so much as have an opportunity to turn and look before Angela all but tackled her, standing up on her toes and reaching up to envelop her in a fierce hug, one arm wrapping across Fareeha’s back, the other reaching up to tangle her fingers in her hair. “You’re safe, oh, when I saw the reports about the sightings in the area, I…”</p><p>“Hi Angela,” Fareeha said, returning the embrace with a quick squeeze. “Missed you too,” she murmured.</p><p>Angela lingered for a moment, then turned her head, apparently noticing Brigitte, standing off to the side, and Lena, just outside the door, for the first time. She let go and took a quick step back, smoothing down the front of her shirt with an awkward cough. “Genji tells me you all made it out in one piece. He hasn’t made a liar of himself today, I see.”</p><p>“Yeah, well,” Brigitte laughed, lightly. “Thankfully.” She pulled a small rod from her pocket, flicking it to project a holographic document, shimmering with delicate blue light. She held it out.</p><p>Angela examined it for a few minutes, eyes scanning the small text. Fareeha had seen Brigitte poring over it on the flight back, meticulously typing it up. “I see.” She held out her hand. Brigitte turned the display off and dropped it into Angela’s waiting palm. “I’ll get this copied in by the end of the day.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Brigitte looked between her and Fareeha. “I could do it, if you want…”</p><p>Angela’s eyes flicked towards Fareeha, and she smiled gently. She shook her head “I’d imagine you could all use some rest right now. We can get caught up later.” She pocketed the device.</p><p>“Alright, well, if you say so.” Brigitte rolled her shoulders, yawned, and began to make her way towards the opposite door. “I could use a shower and a nap; see you guys later.”</p><p>“Take care,” Angela called, waving. Fareeha, at her side, raised a hand as well. Brigitte didn’t look back, but she knew them both well enough to return the wave over her shoulder.</p><p>Lena sidled through the door, watching. She turned to Angela. “Smooth.”</p><p>Angela arched an eyebrow. “Quite,” she replied, dryly.</p><p>Lena snorted. She stepped up and elbowed Angela lightly in the side. “Last time I saw you that worked up, it was…” She trailed off, and grimaced. “A lot worse.”</p><p>“I-I guess.” Angela averted her eyes, and awkwardly rubbed her arm.</p><p>“Happy to see you softening up again.” Lena reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “Really.”</p><p>“I…”</p><p>“Ok, good talk, I’m off to get snacks and call home.” Lena darted for the door. She stopped as she laid her hand on the handle. “Shower too, probably.” She dipped her head to examine her jacket, and wrinkled her nose. “Definitely shower.” She pulled open the door and slipped through, closing it with a solid click before either Fareeha or Angela could get a word in edgewise.</p><p>“Hm…” Fareeha rubbed her chin thoughtfully.</p><p>“She’s a handful, as always.” Angela hunched her shoulders. “She was fine on the mission, I hope.”</p><p>“Oh yes, she’s very capable and always excellent for morale.” Fareeha tilted her head, looking down at Angela out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve never heard you stutter before.”</p><p>Angela’s face reddened. “I—you—” Fareeha burst out laughing. “Don’t laugh!”</p><p>“That’s twice now.” Fareeha held up two fingers.</p><p>“I was surprised! That’s all.” Angela glared up at her. She huffed. “You have a really pretty face,” she grumbled.</p><p>“I do like yours better.”</p><p>Angela considered her seriously. “You’re <em> lucky </em> you have such a nice face,” she amended. Then she spread her arms again. “Come on.”</p><p>Fareeha obligingly gathered her into another tight hug. She took a deep breath, burying her nose in Angela’s hair.</p><p>Angela’s fingers quickly made their way back into Fareeha’s own hair, her head nestling into the crook of her neck. “I’m not soft,” she grumbled.</p><p>“Mm, sure.”</p><p>“It’s just that you make me feel safe.”</p><p>Fareeha, who had been busy idly rubbing Angela’s back, faltered, a sudden, breathless lightness in her chest. “You too, Angela.” She kissed the top of Angela’s head. “I’m so happy that you’re here.”</p>
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